


dreaming with a broken heart

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after Oliver had kissed her in that hospital hallway and she'd walked away, she still dreamed of him - of them and the future she wished they could have.  Dreaming was the easy part, it was waking up that was hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreaming with a broken heart

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey everyone! So this came to me a few days ago after being in a bit of a writing rut. After seeing a gifset where both Felicity and Oliver talking about dreaming (about each other in roundabout ways), this plot-bunny took hold and well...here it is.
> 
> I truly hope you like it! As always, I love to hear what you think so let me know! Thank you for all your support!
> 
> (I've had some people ask so I just want to add that you can find me on twitter with the handle: 27hopedreamlove. Thanks! :)

Strong arms surrounded her, pulling her tight against a warm chest which rumbled beneath her ear as his voice, rough with sleep, whispered her name in her ear.

She burrowed farther into his arms, winding her hands around his back and holding him tight, their entire bodies pressed together from head to toe.

Safe. Secure. Loved.

Her every sense was filled with him and her heart swelled in joy at the happiness that bubbled through up in her chest. 

Turning her head, she pressed a kiss over his heart, the heat from his skin searing her lips.

“I love you,” she murmured, and his arms immediately tightened around her, his lips brushing her forehead in a kiss that sent warmth and sparks shooting down her spine.

She fell back asleep to his response - a warm reassurance and promise in her ear.

The warmth faded, something pulling her from that place where her heart felt whole.

Cold seeped into her skin where his lips had just been pressed and she shivered, the warm planes of his body being replaced by hard edges of metal and plastic.

“Oliver…” she murmured, frowning, wondering what was happening, fighting to stay in that place with him.

Her eyes opened, and she gasped as she sat up, blinking bleary eyes as she took in the blurry surroundings of the Foundry and her brightly lit computer screens.

“Hey.”

She jumped at his voice coming from right next to her, and had to suck her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling. Longing swept through her - that familiar ache resettling deep in empty spaces of her heart replacing the wholeness that she’d felt moments before in her dreams.

Reality struck fast and hard and every time it was harder than she remembered to wake up to that harsh truth.

Taking a deep breath, she turned, searching for her glasses on the desk, studiously avoiding his gaze.

“Hey...sorry, I must have fallen asleep, these searches look like they are almost done and I should be able to have that name for you with just a few…” Words tripped and fell out of her mouth as she tried to stand and move by him, but his eyes saw what she couldn’t.

“Felicity...you’re crying…” he stated, and she made the mistake of looking up at him, crystalline blue eyes gazing at her with the emotion she hadn’t seen since that night after Sara’s funeral. 

She inhaled sharply, eyelids fluttering closed, and she immediately raised her hand to her face, swiping at the traitorous tears.

“It’s nothing…” she whispered, waving his concern off as she stood and shifted past him, unable to hide the trembling of her voice .

“It’s _not_ nothing,” he said thickly, his hand catching the crook of her elbow. Heat flowed through her with the that simple touch, and she drew in a sharp, deep breath. 

“Are you still having nightmares?” He asked, his voice tight, and she heard the guilt swimming in his words.

She quickly shook her head as she turned, “No, it wasn’t a nightmare...” she confessed quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the grey threads of his t-shirt.

“But I heard you calling my name…” She could hear his confusion and concern, and she knew he wasn’t going to let it drop.

Taking a deep breath, she released it as she whispered, “It wasn’t a nightmare, Oliver.”

She let her eyes flick up to meet his, trying to convey everything she couldn’t say; truths she didn’t dare to put into words; the cracks in her heart still too deep.

The air around them shifted, his eyes widening the moment realization dawned on him. Blue pools full of heart-wrenching sadness stared down at her, and she felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall. So many emotions passed between them, longing, guilt, anger, sadness...and, suddenly, it was too much. 

Swallowing, she broke her gaze away from his, taking a swift breath, using it to try to steel her nerves.

“Felicity,” he breathed, and she lost her battle, clamping down on her bottom lip as she turned to head for the bathroom.

Before she could take another step, he was in front of her, his arms encasing her, surrounding her in the same feeling of security she felt in her dream.

His breath ghosted over her forehead as he whispered apologies into her skin.

The memories of her dream slammed into her and she pushed at his chest, overwhelmed by the emotions tumbling through her. Her dreams were mixing with reality and she knew that if she stayed in his arms where she wanted to be, it would only make it worse for them both.

His arms slowly slipped from around her as she turned and fled for the bathroom, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.

***

It wasn’t until three weeks later, after a long night that had ended with her patching up a flesh wound to his shoulder, that she discovered that she wasn’t the only one dreaming of them.

Although his injury hadn’t been life-threatening, he’d ended up asleep on the bed she’d bought him as she continued to pull information off the device he’d retrieved. He’d barely slept the past 48 hours as they searched for the man, that much closer to finding out who had killed Sara.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, slipping her fingers beneath her glasses to rub at her tired eyes.

That’s when she heard him call her name softly.

She immediately tensed, straightening in her chair, as she looked over towards the bed.

He didn’t look as if he’d moved, laying on his uninjured side, his back towards her.

Standing, she softly made her way over to him, barefeet cold on the concrete floor. Three steps from the side of his bed, he spoke again.

“Felicity,” he murmured, as his arm stretched into the empty space beside him, hooking around the extra pillow and pulling it closer.

The breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as she realized he wasn’t calling out in distress or fear, but in contentment.

Blinking rapidly, she took one more step until she could see his face. It was peaceful, not contorted in agony, only a slight crease in the center of his forehead.

She sank down into the chair next to the bed, the aching of her heart growing with each second as she took in this new information. Her head dipped as she bit down on her bottom lip and sighed, her shoulders shaking as she let herself silently mourn for everything he refused himself.

Anger welled within her chest, hands clenching into fists as she wanted to reach over and shake him. Ask him why. Why he continued to do this to them both. Why she couldn’t make herself stop loving him. Why she couldn't let him go. Why knowing he dreamed of her only made her want him and the future they could have even more.

“Dammit, Oliver,” she whispered with a shaky breath, lifting her head to look at him once more.

As she did, the anger ebbed, evaporating as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with reluctant acceptance.

Her computer beeped and she knew the scans had completed. He’d want to know she had the information, but she refused wake him from that dream. She wouldn’t pull him from a place that erased the worry lines from his face; waking up from those were the hardest part - a lesson learned from her own experience.

Instead, she returned to her desk, scrawled out a message on a post-it note and left it on his phone.

_I didn’t want to wake you. Call me when you do. I’ve got the information. - Felicity_

She slept restlessly, her mind drifting back to the knowledge that Oliver dreamed about her; about _them_ and a possible future; that she wasn’t the only one whose heart longed for things it couldn’t have.

When her phone rang at 5AM, she was awake and answered it without looking at the ID, knowing it was him.

His voice was rough with sleep, but she heard the sadness, the brokenness that followed waking up from a dream he wished was reality.

***

Three months later she still dreamt of him. She dreamed of second and third dates, long nights in the Foundry and then in her bed. She dreamed of falling asleep in his arms and waking to his kisses.

This particular night, she dreamed of a baby’s laughter; of blue eyes and dark blonde hair staring up at her from a crib, his hands on her hips and his chin on her shoulder as they watched their newborn daughter sleep. Happiness surrounded them and she couldn’t help but bask in the feeling of completion - her heart whole with the two she loved most at her side.

Slowly, the edges of the crib began to fade along with her dream. She turned in the circle of Oliver’s arms, pressing her face into the broad planes of his chest as she tried to fight the hands of reality that began to pull at her. 

Holding on as long as she could, her will was not as strong as her body’s natural process of waking. Eventually, the familiar sounds of her townhouse drifted in her ears, the images of her dream vanishing completely from behind her closed eyelids. 

Her stomach dropped as she blinked open bleary eyes, small splashes of sunlight sifting through the tiny slits in her blinds.

That familiar ache settled in her chest as she realized she could still feel Oliver’s arms around her from her dream, the scent of him lingering in her memory.

Shutting her eyes, she burrowed her face into her pillow trying to stave off the tears that pricked at her eyes.

When the weight at her waist tightened, pulling her backwards, and deft fingers began to stroke through her tangled hair, her eyes flew open and she gasped. Warmth seeped into her from behind as she made contact with something solid, hot breath tickling over her shoulder.

Her heart thrumming in her chest, she slowly twisted, turning herself in the confines of his embrace. The second her eyes landed on his face, she smiled, the last vestiges of sleep wearing off as she remembered this was her reality now.

Oliver stared back at her with crystal blue eyes, and she knew he’d been awake for awhile. A slow smile spread over her lips as she lifted her hands to his chest, running them up and over his shoulders.

His smile mirrored her own as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss into her skin, making her shiver in delight and anticipation. 

“Morning,” he rasped against her skin before moving to cover her lips with his own.

The kiss was light and easy, and she murmured her echoed reply as they parted.

Her eyes fluttered open and she took him in, short, brown hair standing up straight on his head. 

“What?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.

“I’m just still not used to this…” she rasped, swallowing thickly. “Waking up to this...to you.”

His face softened and he brought her even closer so she could tuck her head into the crook of his shoulder as he threw one of his legs over hers.

“Me either,” he told her honestly.

“You’re sure I’m not still dreaming?” she asked, only half joking as she pulled back to catch his gaze. “I mean, I’ve had dreams that start or end like this - us in my bed - actually most of them usually ended or started here, but that’s…”

His lips found hers, cutting her off and she moaned as his tongue begged for entrance which she easily granted. Her body arched into his as he explored her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own, leaving her breathless when he finally pulled back.

“Still think you’re dreaming?” he asked, eyebrow cocked, and she saw the playfulness in his eyes - a look that she loved to see him wear.

She smirked as his hand slipped under the t-shirt she wore to bed - one of his - and began to trail up her body. 

“Maybe…” she whispered huskily as his fingertips reached the underside of her breast. “I might need a little more convincing…”

The low chuckle that rumbled from deep in his chest thrilled her, and she laughed as swiftly turned them, pinning her beneath him as he began to kiss down her neck as his hands moved upwards under her shirt.

As he found the spot just below her ear that made her keen, he whispered softly into her skin. “I love you.”

She flipped them then, and he let her until she was on top, hair spilling over her shoulder as she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss over his bratva tattoo. “I love you too,” she murmured.

He pulled her up to his mouth, lips crashing together in a kiss that left her breathless and her heart overflowing with love.

She used to dread the moment she woke, the last bits of her dreams vanishing into thin air; now, waking up was her favorite part.


End file.
